Before It's Too Late

Holding on to my brush with death.

It was a hot Israeli night, the rubber of the bus tires steaming against the pavement; the moon looking like it was lit by orange embers. My husband and I were off to Jerusalem for an outing, just the two of us, our brood of young children left behind with a babysitter.

After a lovely evening we boarded the bus back home to our city, half an hour away. We entered the city limits and the bus ambled towards the first stop. The driver opened the doors of the bus and suddenly he stood up

"Who threw this?" he said. He held an olive pit in his hand, oblong and sharp. It was hard to see under the murky lighting of the bus. The passengers stared back at him, uncomprehending.

The driver was insistent. "Someone threw this on my bus!" I looked at the sea of faces, men returning from work, women clutching infants on their laps. Then I looked at the driver, an Arab from a neighboring city, much like many of the drivers our bus company hired. His face was brooding. I looked away.

"Let's get off the bus," I said to my husband, a nervous flutter in my stomach. "We'll figure out our own way home."

But it was too late. The driver slammed the doors shut and sat back down in his seat. And then he began barreling down the road.

"He's going too fast," I said to my husband. The driver picked up speed and we were throttling down the hill, over speed bumps, the bus careening every which way.

"Call the police!" someone yelled. People ripped cell phones out of their pockets as the driver made random turns, the bus careening like an out of control machine. Suddenly I saw the driver headed toward a gate that bordered on a deep valley. I had heard of terrorist attacks of this nature before.

We're going to die, I thought. Our children are going to have no parents, heaven forbid.

While people frantically called the police, I hung my head out of a narrow stretch of window at the top of the bus.

"Help!" I screamed. "The bus is being hijacked!"

It was nearing midnight and the streets were desolate save for a lone pedestrian here or there. A man looked up and stared. He could see me waving my hands and screaming but he couldn't make out what I was saying. He looked helpless, but he couldn't have felt half as helpless as I felt.

The driver continued up the hill.

"If he wanted to kill us," my husband said, "he would have ditched into the valley. He's just trying to scare us. Trust me."

I prayed that he was right. I thought of each of my sweet, beautiful children. I thought of the unborn child within me that might never have the chance to experience the wonder of this world.

"He's heading towards the entrance of the city," someone yelled.

Oh God, I thought. Please let them stop him at the city entrance.

Just then a patrol car swerved in front of the bus, blocking his path. The driver stopped the bus and the officer got out and banged on the door. The doors opened, releasing the shaken passengers.

We were free.

The passengers crowded around the police officer, wanting to help in pressing criminal charges.

"We should go give our testimony," my husband said.

I shook my head, shaking. "No. I just want to get home to the kids."

We ordered a taxi and made it home, apologizing to the babysitter for the delay. Then I sat down on the couch and I cried my nearly broken heart out.

It is difficult to live your life as if perched on the precipice of tragedy.

Over the past week, I, along with thousands around the world, have been following the story of the horrific crash on the Taconic State Parkway which killed eight people -- many of them small children. Sweeping all controversy aside, it is clear that there were many innocent victims here, and for that America mourns. In eulogizing his three daughters, Warren Hance broke down and said, "Love your children, cherish your children, kiss your children, and do not forget..."

I cannot compare my near encounter with the loss that this poor man has suffered, but it did bring me back to a few moments in time when I thought that I might never be able to hold my children again.

It is difficult to live your life as if perched on the precipice of tragedy. Within days of my experience I found myself back in my old habits, loving my children but feeling the usual frustrations of motherhood. But now I had a tool to help me through it -- a memory which helped me to reframe my perspective.

Unfortunately, Warren Hance doesn't have the opportunity to put his newfound perspective into practice.

But I still have the chance. And hopefully, so do you.

Appreciate your children more.

Give them one extra cuddle at bedtime, those five minutes to help your child fix their computer, one phone call you don't answer in lieu of spending time with your child.

Love your children, cherish your children and savor every precious moment as if it's your last.

Related Articles:

About the Author

Yael Mermelstein M.S. is the author of thousands of magazine articles and has seven published books. Her stories have also been published in textbooks and have been approved by the Israeli Ministry of Education for inclusion in the English matriculation exams.Her latest book, Dual Secrets, has recently been released by Artscroll/Mesorah. She lives in Israel with her family.

Visitor Comments: 14

sometimes i wish i could go back in time but i an savoring precious moments with my beautiful grandchilren and enjoying my chidren now even more.

(13)
judy Zinn,
August 13, 2009 1:37 AM

mrs. Mermerlstein always writes very well. I always look forward to her articles. She has a flair for expressing emotions.

(12)
Anonymous,
August 13, 2009 1:29 AM

Dear Yael, First I'm very happy that you & your husband are both safe. After such an ordeal, I can just imagine how you felt when you arived home & was able to hug & kiss your children. At a time like this we thank G-D for intervening and keeping us safe. May you & your family continue to be safe.

(11)
Ruby G.,
August 12, 2009 11:22 PM

An essential lesson on appreciiating life

BS"D
I'm so sorry that you had to go through this ordeal. The writing was so real that I felt like I was on the bus with you, and I cried along with you afterwards.
Thank you Yael for being a source of inspiriation. I'm proud to know you.
Ruby

(10)
Anonymous,
August 12, 2009 3:53 AM

touching

the terror felt by the author is palatable. but it seems as if a good lesson was learned. you can never love your loved ones too much only too little. this is a good wake up call.

(9)
barbara s,
August 11, 2009 7:28 PM

a very moving story with universal appeal.

(8)
ERROL,
August 11, 2009 6:40 PM

Lack of care

I am truley sorry that you or anyone should experience such a scary ordeal.This type of incident happens all to often because the company owners and the authorities just dont care.they will just go through the motions and make a profit.No disaster prevenion is even considered so how can we expect common decency.Its always said oh well thats Israel,but that does not make it right.Can you imagine any where else in the civilised world hiring someone just because you can pay him less

(7)
Gavriel Fineberg,
August 11, 2009 1:17 PM

This is a very touching article.. well done, I hope to read your future columns.

(6)
,
August 11, 2009 11:04 AM

God is in control

I can not really imagine what life is for many on this earth. I live in a save country far from trouble but even though I often feel somehow cranky and not satisfied but God may help me and all who read that article to get things in the right perspective.

(5)
ruth housman,
August 11, 2009 10:20 AM

"wake" up calls

It shouldn't take tragedy or imminent tragedy, to make us realize the value of those we love and of being alive. We should savor every moment and we need to tell those we love now how much we love them. Maybe it's wise to live life as if every moment we see someone could be the last, so we need to tell those we love how much they mean to us, always.
This is a deep article about a profound subject.

(4)
Rivky,
August 10, 2009 4:31 PM

THis is a very well written and important article for ppl to read!!! it is such a great reminder and almost wake up call for many!!! thank you

(3)
Gemma,
August 10, 2009 3:17 PM

Thank you for reminding me not to take life for granted

(2)
malka,
August 10, 2009 3:07 PM

thank you.

thank you, thank you for sharing so that i can learn from your story and there should be no need for reminders from above.... beautifully written ...

(1)
Sarah,
August 10, 2009 11:03 AM

touching

Baruch Hashem that you can tell us this story, reminding us of the important things in life!

I'm told that it's a mitzvah to become intoxicated on Purim. This puzzles me, because to my understanding, it is not considered a good thing to become intoxicated, period.

One of the characteristics of the at-risk youth is their use of drugs, including alcohol. In my experience, getting drunk doesn't reveal secrets. It makes people act stupid and irresponsible, doing things they would never do if they were sober. Also, I know a lot about the horrible health effects of abusing alcohol, because I work at a research center that focuses on addiction and substance abuse.

Also, I am an alcoholic, which means that if I drink, very bad things happen. I have not had a drink in 22 years, and I have no intention of starting now. Surely there must be instances where a person is excused from the obligation to drink. I don't see how Judaism could ever promote the idea of getting drunk. It just doesn't seem right.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Putting aside for a moment all the spiritual and philosophical reasons for getting drunk on Purim, this remains an issue of common sense. Of course, teenagers should be warned of the dangers of acute alcohol ingestion. Of course, nobody should drink and drive. Of course, nobody should become so drunk to the point of negligence in performing mitzvot. And of course, a recovering alcoholic should not partake of alcohol on Purim.

Indeed, the Code of Jewish Law explicitly says that if one suspects the drinking may affect him negatively, then he should NOT drink.

Getting drunk on Purim is actually one of the most difficult mitzvot to do correctly. A person should only drink if it will lead to positive spiritual results - e.g. under the loosening affect of the alcohol, greater awareness will surface of the love for God and Torah found deep in the heart. (Perhaps if we were on a higher spiritual level, we wouldn't need to get drunk!)

Yet the Talmud still speaks of an obligation on Purim of "not knowing the difference between Blessed is Mordechai and Cursed is Haman." How then should a person who doesn't drink get the point of “not knowing”? Simple - just go to sleep! (Rama - OC 695:2)

All this applies to individuals. But the question remains - does drinking on Purim adversely affect the collective social health of the Jewish community?

The aversion to alcoholism is engrained into Jewish consciousness from a number of Biblical and Talmudic sources. There are the rebuking words of prophets - Isaiah 28:1, Hosea 3:1 with Rashi, and Amos 6:6, and the Zohar says that "The wicked stray after wine" (Midrash Ne'alam Parshat Vayera).

It is well known that the rate of alcoholism among Jews has historically been very low. Numerous medical, psychological and sociological studies have confirmed this. The connection between Judaism and sobriety is so evident, that the following conversation is reported by Lawrence Kelemen in "Permission to Receive":

When Dr. Mark Keller, editor of the Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol, commented that "practically all Jews do drink, and yet all the world knows that Jews hardly ever become alcoholics," his colleague, Dr. Howard Haggard, director of Yale's Laboratory of Applied Physiology, jokingly proposed converting alcoholics to the Jewish religion in order to immerse them in a culture with healthy attitudes toward drinking!

Perhaps we could suggest that it is precisely because of the use of alcohol in traditional ceremonies (Kiddush, Bris, Purim, etc.), that Jews experience such low rates of alcoholism. This ceremonial usage may actually act like an inoculation - i.e. injecting a safe amount that keeps the disease away.

Of course, as we said earlier, all this needs to be monitored with good common sense. Yet in my personal experience - having been in the company of Torah scholars who were totally drunk on Purim - they acted with extreme gentleness and joy. Amid the Jewish songs and beautiful words of Torah, every year the event is, for me, very special.

Adar 12 marks the dedication of Herod's renovations on the second Holy Temple in Jerusalem in 11 BCE. Herod was king of Judea in the first century BCE who constructed grand projects like the fortresses at Masada and Herodium, the city of Caesarea, and fortifications around the old city of Jerusalem. The most ambitious of Herod's projects was the re-building of the Temple, which was in disrepair after standing over 300 years. Herod's renovations included a huge man-made platform that remains today the largest man-made platform in the world. It took 10,000 men 10 years just to build the retaining walls around the Temple Mount; the Western Wall that we know today is part of that retaining wall. The Temple itself was a phenomenal site, covered in gold and marble. As the Talmud says, "He who has not seen Herod's building, has never in his life seen a truly grand building."

Some people gauge the value of themselves by what they own. But in reality, the entire concept of ownership of possessions is based on an illusion. When you obtain a material object, it does not become part of you. Ownership is merely your right to use specific objects whenever you wish.

How unfortunate is the person who has an ambition to cleave to something impossible to cleave to! Such a person will not obtain what he desires and will experience suffering.

Fortunate is the person whose ambition it is to acquire personal growth that is independent of external factors. Such a person will lead a happy and rewarding life.

With exercising patience you could have saved yourself 400 zuzim (Berachos 20a).

This Talmudic proverb arose from a case where someone was fined 400 zuzim because he acted in undue haste and insulted some one.

I was once pulling into a parking lot. Since I was a bit late for an important appointment, I was terribly annoyed that the lead car in the procession was creeping at a snail's pace. The driver immediately in front of me was showing his impatience by sounding his horn. In my aggravation, I wanted to join him, but I saw no real purpose in adding to the cacophony.

When the lead driver finally pulled into a parking space, I saw a wheelchair symbol on his rear license plate. He was handicapped and was obviously in need of the nearest parking space. I felt bad that I had harbored such hostile feelings about him, but was gratified that I had not sounded my horn, because then I would really have felt guilty for my lack of consideration.

This incident has helped me to delay my reactions to other frustrating situations until I have more time to evaluate all the circumstances. My motives do not stem from lofty principles, but from my desire to avoid having to feel guilt and remorse for having been foolish or inconsiderate.

Today I shall...

try to withhold impulsive reaction, bearing in mind that a hasty act performed without full knowledge of all the circumstances may cause me much distress.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...